The reassurance of running

On my pre-dawn run this morning the fog reflected the light from my head torch right back at me, which was rather disconcerting to say the least.

I had to adjust my pace quite drastically at times, except when I had the added advantage of being near a street lamp, which was far more effective than my head torch, even with a new battery in it.

I've experienced quite a variety of differing conditions over the past 1,028 days of running my mile-and-a-bit.

These have ranged from being chased by dogs on sweltering early mornings in the Italian countryside, having to run on a dreaded treadmill (the very worst option as far as I'm concerned) in a hotel gym down the road from RAF Kinloss in the very north of Scotland because the entire car park and everything around it was covered with ice, through woods in the middle of Holland, up and down hills in deep snow, in a gale with lashing rain and now in fog that makes it hard to see my feet.

There's something reassuring about just running, putting one foot in front of the other, whatever the weather, whatever the visibility and conditions of the ground I'm running on.

The one constant for me has been just taking the next step, and then just taking the next step after that, even when I can't even see where I'm going beyond the end of my arm.

I think if we all treated life like that, it would be for the better.